


A Flat Run into a Brick Wall

by amireal



Series: Watch out for those Ninja Feelings [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-20
Updated: 2011-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amireal/pseuds/amireal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the ninja emotions you have to watch out for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Flat Run into a Brick Wall

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first completed story in about four years. It's an accomplishment for me because it marks a certain goalpost of mine that I set up when I knew I was well and truly not well. That I could do this, in my usual time frame, without feelings of inadequacy, it a big deal. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

If pressed, Danny would argue that it really was just a typical day, the fact it involved road rash, a hand sized bruise on his hip and a bullet sized bruise on his breastbone where his chest had caught the slug was a rant for another day. He and Steve are separated for all of five minutes, though it felt like 15 when it was happening, and later Danny realizes that Steve must have seen him dive away from oncoming traffic and not seen his safe getaway and that he was partially shielded by debris when the bullet hit. He's pretty sure he never used to use debris as much in Jersey. So yeah, Steve's thousand yard stare at his chest while the paramedic demanded to check his breathing, makes sense.

Danny figures he'll buy Steve a beer and they'll make fun of some bad action movies, Steve will cry over the fake, fake, incredibly bad, fighting styles and Danny will wonder why the cops are so dumb and they'll not talk about it at all and things will be good. He's still a bit shaky from watching the guy get through Steve's guard and land a hard one onto his jaw. He considers it cheap therapy for both of them and a small price to pay for not running Chin and Kono off with their insanity.

Only Steve drives them to Danny's place and nips his heels all the way inside and Danny turns to ask what the hell, personal bubble please, when he sees the thousand yard stare is back and crap he's really fucking tired.

"Beer?" Danny offers and is about to go fight open his tired and worn refrigerator so that he can get at the booze before Steve has a chance to think when he's clobbered by 175 pounds of SEAL and octopused into submission.

Steve folds his entire body around Danny, tucking his head awkwardly next to Danny's. Danny gives it a few seconds before uttering a muffled, "So this is new."

Steve lets out a shaky "Danno." before clutching him tighter, somehow missing all his bruised spots and Danny can feel the heart under his ear going something like 120.

Steve hugs the way he does everything, at full speed and with impressive skill and Danny's way into the sensation of Steve under his hands when he feels the minute shaking. "Oh, babe," he murmurs into Steve's neck. "I didn't know."

Steve's voice rumbles all the way through him, "Neither did I."

An expansive warmth and affection takes root in Danny's chest and makes him a little light headed. He clutches Steve closer and tilts his head so that their temples touch. “Okay,” Danny breathes. “Okay.” The shivering under his hands gets more violent and Danny wonders if Steve is actually going into shock. “Cold?”

“Huh?” Steve’s entire body jitters.

“Okay,” Danny says again. “Let’s get you warmed up.” He rubs his hands up and down Steve’s sides, as much as he can anyway since his partner is still in the form of Octo-SEAL. He tries to shuffle them towards the still unmade bed but it ends up being more of a shove, stumble ordeal and if Danny’s head wasn’t too busy trying to assimilate Steve’s apparently overwhelming affection for him, he probably wouldn’t be grasping for words. “You’re going to have to let go.”

Steve makes a mulish noise and shivers violently.

“Just for a second,” Danny starts to bend his knees, hoping Steve will loosen his hold before they tumble onto the floor, probably hitting all of his bruises on the way down. All of Steve’s too, and in his condition he might actually admit they hurt and that would just cause more havoc later.

In his head, Danny can practically hear the cartoon squid noises and mentally makes a note to watch less Spongebob when Grace is around, as Steve carefully lets go. Steve doesn’t give Danny range of movement without compromise, his hands move to rest on Danny’s hips, fingers threading in and out of his belt loops. Danny guides him to the edge of the mattress and slides down awkwardly to his knees so he can relieve Steve of his holster and shoes… and leg holster… and boot knife—Jesus that should not be hot. He gives up after that thinking that Steve deserves his discomfort if he decides to carry more than three weapons and Danny doesn’t actually want to know if he actually _has_ more weapons on his person.

It takes a surreal game of twister to get them both into bed minus the most uncomfortable bits but as soon as Danny manages to get them both horizontal and under the blankets Steve pulls some sort of ninja move and gets Danny hopelessly pinned to the bed. Danny just gives in and lets him, too tired and too comfortable to complain.

Danny wakes some undetermined amount of time later surprised he can move his limbs. Years of practice tells him that he’s alone in the bed, but since his kitchen is about ten feet away, he processes the quiet puttering sounds at about the same time. His nose kicks in seconds later and he gets the whiff of something thick, spicy and comforting.

He gives in to the full body stretch itching to get out and a groan slips out unintended as he’s flexing his toes. After a long and thorough stretch, Danny slides onto his side and sleepily observes Steve who is absently stirring a steaming pot. He can tell that Steve knows he’s awake; he doesn’t know how, but he can tell. That’s what makes him call out, “How’re you feeling?”

Steve shrugs, “Better,” and starts filling two bowls. “Different.” He brings the bowls to one of Danny’s TV tables which is already set up next to the bed, complete with napkins, silverware and some ready to baked bread Danny had decided to chance a month ago and then been too busy to try. It looks just as crusty and delicious as he had imagined it would when he put it in his freezer four weeks earlier. He makes a note to check and see if Steve has also cleaned his grout in a fit of nerves.

Every place he hit the pavement complains as he makes a real effort to sit up so that he doesn’t get soup down his shirt. Steve is there before the first groan finishes and he finds himself carefully helped upright. Danny catches his hands before Steve can stand up and he squeezes them tightly. “Hey, everything’s okay.” Steve goes a little deer in headlights and Danny finds himself hauling him closer until their foreheads meet. “Everything is okay.” He says it more firmly, reaching out to cup Steve’s face with one hand and stroke carefully over his cheekbone. “I promise.”

Danny is handed a bowl of what looks like a thick minestrone soup, he eyes it suspiciously and wonders how exactly Steve managed this with what’s left in his kitchen after their last case. Then he shrugs and attributes it to Steve’s classified ninja SEAL skills and decides he’ll probably feel better not asking.

Turns out Danny is starving and the bowl is finished quickly. Then he shifts to the corner of the couch that makes up the head of the bed with  
a bottle of water and the rest of his bread and spends a moment considering Steve, who still looks shaky and pale. He thinks that maybe Steve isn’t used to his own brain surprising him like that, the SEALs probably trained it out of him, mostly. He wonders, briefly, if they could get away with taking Friday off. Steve takes a long deep breath and carefully places his empty bowl back on the table, he’s still not looking at Danny. Maybe a half day.

“C’mere.” Danny nudges him with his foot. “It is way too late at night for any deep or meaningful conversations.” That nudges a small smile out of Steve and it warms Danny’s heart. “I am a) over thirty and b) as much as I think everyone on this island criminally under-dresses, even I do not feel the need to dress up for sleep.” He pokes Steve’s leg with a toe. “Let’s get comfortable, maybe make out a little bit and then see how we feel in the morning. I’m pretty sure we can both swing a sick day.”

The look on Steve’s face is precious, and Danny lunges forward, abs and ass both complaining, but he ignores it and kisses Steve's nose. Pulling back, he waits for Steve to catch up. When he does it’s dazzling, Steve’s smile rises over his face like a sunrise. Danny kisses him on the lips for good measure. “Come on babe, sweep me off my feet.”

End


End file.
